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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891668">Pinky Promises</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperNahrwhale/pseuds/DapperNahrwhale'>DapperNahrwhale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/ Alcoholism, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Drug Abuse, Gen, I did writing this, I wasnt intending for this to get so long and sad oops, Implied/ referenced depression, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, a bit out of order but let's say that's intentional, angst death, anyone ask for 5k of twin angst? Nope?, btw this isnt even really a 5+1 fic cuz I didnt count how many times it was, btw you will cry, but it has a good ending, but its, eh close enough to 5, he tries and fails alot and then succeds so, implied/ referenced child abuse, implied/ referenced homophobia, implied/ referenced suicide, is that a thing I feel like it should be a thing, it prob sounds really dark and that's because it is, molly has oldest twin syndrome where the older twin has to keep the younger from doing stupid things, not super chronological, suicidal idealization, twin angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperNahrwhale/pseuds/DapperNahrwhale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Angel made a promise to Molly and broke it, and the one time he didn't. <br/>Or<br/>Angel's reason to try to get to heaven goes beyond just a free room. It's for Molly, it's always been for her. He will always try, and fail, to keep his promises to her. This one is no exception. </p><p>He'd tried to quit, for Molly he'd try anything. But knowing him it wouldn't stick. Nothing good ever did last with Angel. He'd find some way to ruin it or die trying.</p><p>Everyone knows theres no saving a drowning man. So why bother, when they're just going to drag you down too. It's simple act of self preservation. (Molly was never any good at that, and neither was Angel)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angel Dust &amp; Molly (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Screw Ups Happen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So apparently angel died in 1947, At 37? Weird. Means he and molly was born in 1910, just to get it all clear! And the current year in hell is 2020<br/>Also all the tags are relevent, but most to later chapters, just thought it would be safe to let you know what you're getting into!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel and Molly had been inseparable since birth. They'd always promised each other, that since they were born together, they'd die together. </p><p><br/>Of course, that wasn't very true now. </p><p><br/>They didn't die together.</p><p><br/>They hadn't been together since they'd died, separately. 70 some years is such a long time to be apart.</p><p><br/>(That was the first promise they'd made, and the last one they broke.)</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p><br/>Twins are usually viewed as exactly the same or total opposites, and they were neither. They were made up of bits and pieces gained from each other, a cobbled together treasured collection from years and years of <em>knowing</em> each other.</p><p><br/>They were a mismatched-but-matching set of wild kids who went through different sorts of hells together, side by side, and came out of it separated. But not by choice. </p><p><br/>They had the same smattering constellations of freckles on their cheeks, and the same shade of pale hair, and the same mischievous smirk that was bound for causing trouble.</p><p><br/>And they had the same inexplicable pair of mismatched eyes, one dark and one light. When ever someone asked them about it, they said the same thing. They would joke they had traded an eye, so they could 'keep an eye on each other'. </p><p><br/>They thought is was hilarious. Pops didn't think so though. He never thought they were very funny though. The man had no sense of humor. It died along with his wife when they were born. </p><p>- </p><p><br/>They made a pinky promise to protect each other from everything that would hurt them. This was the first promise Angel broke. </p><p><br/>It wouldn't be the last.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>It isn't true that twins can feel each others pain. If it was, Molly would've known how much pain Angel had been in for their whole lives.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>Angel thinks maybe Molly would have been better off without him born as her twin. Without a screw up like him around, she could have been someone more than this. He did that to her. She had been so full of hope and optimism, and all he was is cynical sarcasm and bad habits. He ruined her. She was so much better than him. She was worth so much more than this. Than him. <br/>Why'd she bother to keep trying to help him. Didn't she know he was a lost cause already. Everyone else gave up on him eventually. He'd drive people away as quick as he could, he'd make them leave, before they found out just how screwed up he was and then they'd chose to leave instead. It worked with everyone else, why couldn't she see that he was nothing more than a lost cause. </p><p><br/>A constant screw up.</p><p><br/>A pile of broken promises.</p><p><br/>An accident waiting to happen.</p><p><br/>He wishes she hadn't been stuck with a parasitic twin like him. </p><p><br/>Maybe she wasn't supposed to be a twin and he went and ruined everything for her, just like he always does. He thinks her life certainly would have been much better if he wasn't in it. Everyone's lives would have been better without him. </p><p><br/>He didn't even mean she was better than him in a self deprecating way (he did), she just could do better than him and everyone knew it. He didn't understand why she bothered with him anymore.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>Their family had always blamed Angel for just about everything that went wrong. Pops had blamed him for their Ma's death. He'd ended up blaming himself for that one too. <br/>Most the time though, what went wrong wasn't actually his fault though, so he'd started giving them real reasons to blame him instead. He decided fine, if they say he's just bad, then he'll be bad. But he'd internalized most of it. He was always such a screw up, what else is new. </p><p>-</p><p><br/>He could never blame Molly for any of that. For not noticing how far gone he already was, by the time she realized and tried, it was too late for him. It wasn't her fault. She tried so hard to keep peace with everyone, and not get mad at Pops, to keep on her brave and smiling face, and not get emotional. And then he'd go and ruin all that by lashing out and she'd have to do damage control to try and make everything smooth again. She'd always deserved better than him anyways. </p><p><br/>Molly was too kind to tell him to his face that he was a screw up, but everyone else had no problem pointing out the truth. She'd always mistakenly believed he could be better. She couldn't have been more wrong and he hated it. </p><p><br/>He always hated it when Molly was wrong. She'd get that pouty frown, and then insist things had to be different. She was always determined to make it so. <br/>He missed seeing her frown. </p><p><br/>He missed her smile more though. </p><p><br/>It was always good when she was happy, things would hurt a bit less when she smiled. </p><p><br/>He missed her.</p><p><br/>It hurt to think of her.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>Molly was the first to find out he'd been having 'relations' with a guy from rival gang. He knew that fraternizing with the enemy would bite him back sooner or later. But he just didn't care. He didn't care about anything. Nothing really matters anyways.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>"If Pops found outta bout this-" Molly starts out.</p><p>"He won't." Angel interrupted.</p><p><br/>"If he did, you'd be a goner." Matching eyes glared at each other.</p><p><br/>"Not much of a loss there." He looks away.</p><p><br/>"I just... I really worry about ya, Angie." She was still looking at him. With that worried frown on. He wishes she'd stop that. Being worried never got anyone anything.</p><p><br/>"Well don't. He won't find out." Angel snaps.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>Pops finds out. Angel spat it at him in a reckless act of defiance that would have gotten him killed, if Molly hadn't stepped in to mediate. Like always. She always having to fix his constant screw ups.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>"Pops says ya gotta do it." </p><p><br/>"I ain't apologizing to him. I didn't do shit wrong."</p><p><br/>"I know that Angie, I really do. But it'll look bad on both of ya if you don't."</p><p><br/>"Molls, does it look like I care what that two bit tool thinks of me." His dull empty hazy eyes look past her. He was puffing a joint like a chimney. </p><p><br/>He starting to hated how living felt, he'd just wanted to be numb. At least then, nothing would hurt. Molly was always so full of life and love and caring. He was starting to hate that. How could she care so much when it all meant nothing. When it didn't matter. Nothing matters.</p><p><br/>"Then do it for me." </p><p><br/>He sighs, and does it. For her. <br/>Nothing matters. Except for her. She will <em>always</em> be the only thing that matter to him. </p><p>-</p><p><br/>He clenched his sharp nails into tight fists, breaking skin. Flecks of blood dug into his nails, as he refrained from decking him in his stupid smug ugly mug. </p><p><br/>He goes to Pops and apologizes through gritted teeth. He gets a backhand to the face and a disgusted "<em>Freak</em>" for his troubles. <br/>He only regret was not punching him first. </p><p>-</p><p><br/>Angel doesn't go back home again after that. That's probably for the best.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>Molly helped find him a shitty apartment on the bad side of town. It's all his budget can handle. She's chattering on about how good this is, for him to finally be on his own, and how fun that's going to be to be independent now, and how nice it'll be to finally have his own room. And she's still staying at home with Pops. </p><p><br/>It was the first time they'd ever lived in separate places. At home, they had always shared a room. </p><p><br/>Up until now, that is.</p><p><br/>Now, all they share is the same pair of mismatching eyes. But while Molly's are still so bright and full of life, Angel's are starting to dull more and more every day. She doesn't notice. If she did she'd have done something to fix it by now. She never did learn when to leave well enough alone. She'd do anything to fix things, to make things right. That's why she stayed with Pops, why she always stretched herself thin for others, why she always thought he could be better. </p><p>-</p><p><br/>Angel was constantly ruining everything he could get his hands on. It was just how he was. He saw something nice for himself and couldn't wait until he could smash it to the ground. He's self-aware enough to see it's the self-destructive part of him that wants to ruin everything for himself, because at least if he ruins it, it's his own choice right? It's not leaving anything up to chance or fate or whatever. At least if he messes it up, he knows it's on him. </p><p><br/>Good things just don't last for him. He'd found that out the hard way. It's going to go wrong anyways, might as well make it go wrong on his own terms. </p><p>-</p><p><br/>He's a screw up. He was born a screw up and he'll die one. There's no changing it. It's just who he was. Sometimes though, it felt like that's all he was.</p><p>-</p><p><br/>Those two weeks 'sober' for the hotel broads (not sober, just a low background buzz, instead of the usual knock out wasted he would've preferred) would have killed him if he wasn't already dead. And it certainly was not from lack of trying.</p><p>It was <em>actually</em> hell.</p><p><br/>He hadn't been sober in 100 years and they expect him to be now? Of course it wasn't going to last, nothing good ever did with him.<br/>Surprisingly enough, he actually tried to be sober for the first few days. He didn't know the last time he had done that. Tried to go sober. Well, he did know. He just wishes he didn't.</p><p><br/>(The first time he ever got high or drunk, he felt like he was finally right. It was the coming down part he hated. He couldn't stand it. He was 10 years old when he snuck his first glass of whiskey from Pop's not-so-secret stash. He'd paid dearly for that. The scar from that hadn't stopped him from sneaking more and more, until there was nothing left. He'd just learned not to get caught as often, he still got blamed for it, nothing he ever did would convince Pops it wasn't him, that was fine though he was used to the blame. And he'd been chasing that high ever since. Anything to dull the fact he had to keep on <em>existing.</em>)</p><p><br/>(The first time he tried to go sober, he felt like he was going to die. He almost did. He would've died too, if it weren't for <em>Molly-</em>)<br/>(Don't think about that.)</p><p><br/>But, withdrawal hurt like hell, it was even worse than it was in the mortal world. Not that he knew much, having only gone through it once before. But, he remembered it as the second most painful thing that had happened in his life. The first hadn't been his death. Dying didn't count. When he'd died, it hadn't hurt. He could hardly remember it through the heavy haze of drugs anyways. But the single most painful thing had been when <em>Molly</em>-</p><p><br/>(He had to stop thinking about her. This is why he didn't go sober. He didn't want to be constantly reminded of her.)</p><p><br/>Anyways.</p><p><br/>He couldn't imagine being <em>sober</em> for the rest of eternity. He honestly wouldn't know what to do with himself. All he did was get high or get money to get high. Was he supposed to get a hobby or something. Maybe he'd take up knitting. God, that's depressing. His whole entire continued existence was kind of depressing.</p><p><br/>To still <em>exist</em> was bad enough, but having to exist still, and not be buzzed out of his skull? To be like this forever? To have no way to avoid the things he doesn't want to think about or the things that <em>hurt</em> too much to remember?</p><p><br/>To still be here when <em>she</em> isn't? Having to come to terms with that? That he had to <em>live</em> without her? Like this? That he had to be sober and know that everything about eternity sucked and it was never going to get any better, so what's the point in ever even trying anymore.</p><p><br/>Nothing is ever going to change. He will always fail. He'll never stay sober. He will always be like this. A lost cause. A screw up. There's no changing that. </p><p><br/>There's no point in even <em>trying</em> to. </p><p><br/>There's no point in trying anything anymore. Not when she wasn't here. He'd promised to try for her sake. But she wasn't here.</p><p> </p><p>He lasted less than a week sober in hell. </p><p><br/>The only reasonable thing to do next, was to find as many drugs as he could and make the most deadly variety of stuff he could get his desperate numerous hands on, anything to make it all <em>stop</em>.</p><p><br/>It didn't stop though. By the time he remembered that he was already dead, it didn't stop him from trying. Just from succeeding.</p><p><br/>(He squeezed his pinky and tried to not think of Molly.)</p><p><br/>But. He was still in hell. Everything was still going. He was still existing. There was no getting out of it. There was no getting out of the consequences of his drug-addled selfs actions either. Turf wars always ended bad. This one was no different.</p><p><br/>The look of sadness and <em>hurt</em> on Charlie's face when he'd inevitably failed and nearly ruined her whole damn <em>dream</em>, made him feel more things than he had in decades. Things he had been actively trying to suppress since long before he'd ever died.</p><p><br/>(Sometimes it <em>hurt</em> to look at Charlie. She was so much like his sister, the big bright eyes, the lively attitude, the cheerfulness. The determined innocence, even though they'd both grown up through hell, Molly figuratively and Charlie quite literally. The unfounded belief that he could be better. It hurt even more to see her cry, all because of him. All he was ever any good for is making her cry.)</p><p><br/>They still took him back though. After the mess he'd caused for them, they still believed that he could be better. That he could be something more than this. <br/>He still didn't get where they got that idea from. He was nothing but a lost cause. A constant screw up. </p><p><br/>But they were still trying. </p><p><br/>-</p><p><br/>Staying at the hotel was for more than the free room. If those crazy girls were to be believed, the goal was to 'rehabilitate' sinners, to get them into heaven. It was ridiculous and it probably wouldn't work. </p><p><br/>But. </p><p><br/>It was the one chance he had to possibly see his sister again. If he could stumble his way sober into heaven, maybe she'd be there. And he'd finally be able to make up for being such a screw up. </p><p><br/>But of course, he just had to blow it the first chance he saw. Because he couldn't stand the thought that he was going to screw it up anyways, so why bother trying. It's not like he'll ever be any better, he'll always be like this, like him. There's no making him any better. That's just how he is. He's only a screw up and that's all he'll ever be. </p><p><br/>But.</p><p><br/>They <em>still</em> believed in him. He knew that Molly <em>still</em> believed in him.</p><p> <br/>So, when the project didn't immediately crash and burn, he figured it might be worth another shot. Sure, he knew he was bound to fail anyways. He'd find some way to screw up up for sure. And that this would probably backfire on him. And he knew that it was pretty pointless to hope anymore.</p><p><br/>(He squeezed his pinky)</p><p><br/>But for Molly, he'd try.<br/>-</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Pink Promises Happen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone knows theres no saving a drowning man. So why bother, when they're just going to drag you down too. It's simple act of self preservation. (Molly was never any good at that, and neither was Angel)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-</p><p>Everyone knows theres no saving a drowning man. So why bother, when they're just going to drag you down too. It's simple act of self preservation. (<em>Molly was never any good at that, and neither was Angel</em>)</p><p>-</p><p>"You've gotta stop doing this to yourself." Molly has that frown on her face. The one that means she had thought long and hard about what exactly to say.</p><p>"Doin' what." He asked, redundantly. He already knew what was going to happen. It had been a long time coming. He just wanted to delay the inevitable. Taking a deep puff of his joint, he slowly blew it out.</p><p>She glared and pointed to the artificial cloud of smog drifting aimlessly out the window.</p><p>"<em>That</em>."</p><p>"Why." He rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to hear this.</p><p>"It just, it hurts me to see you like this... so out of it and all."</p><p>He gave her an empty stare, his discolored eyes looking far far past her.</p><p>"What if I want to be out of it, what if I happen like it." He didn't, not really. It was preferable to the pain of being sober though. Everything hard was just so much easier to deal with buzzed. Like being <em>alive</em>. Like this conversation that he'd been avoiding for weeks.</p><p>"There just so much more to life than blocking it all out! It can all be so beautiful, if you would just give it a chance."</p><p>"I don't want to give it a chance. What's the goddamn point."</p><p>"To feel things, to be alive! Really alive! It can be so wonderful."</p><p>He blew out another cloud. Feel things? Be alive? That sounded terrible. That was what he was trying to avoid.</p><p>"Just give it a try."</p><p>"You really want me to go sober."</p><p>"I'd like you to try."</p><p>"..."</p><p>"If you can't try for yourself, then do it for me. <em>Please, Angie</em>."</p><p>She looks at him, mismatched eyes full of life. And tears.</p><p>And he could never refuse her, not when she looked like she might cry. And he'd rather (not die, that's actually something he wouldn't mind all that much) but he'd rather go sober than make her cry. If he ever made her cry, just shoot him to get it over with. He couldn't stand the sight of her tears. But it seemed that's all he was any good for.</p><p>So he sighed and crushed the rest of the joint under his boot, went and tossed out (most) of his drugs and flushed down (most) of his alcohol and then tried to not feel like he was going to die.</p><p>But, without the drugs and booze, there was nothing to shove back the feeling. It was always there lurking. Waiting to rear its ugly head every time he got a hint closer to awareness. All he could do is sit and wait for it to happen in full force.</p><p>-</p><p>The first day he can't even get out of bed he's shaking and throwing up so much from withdrawal. Molly comes by with some corner store soup, she's noticed he doesn't exactly have any of real food in his tiny kitchenette. He doesn't eat the soup. Whats the point when he'll just be throwing it up anyways. What's the point in anything.</p><p>The second day isn't much better, but at least he can move around more. It takes everything in him to not grab the bottle of medicine from the bathroom cabinet and down it all. Anything to make it all stop.</p><p>By the third day, he's really ready to make it all <em>stop</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>On the third day, Molly catches him on his way to the stairwell of the roof, coming over from a long day of helping Pops out. Without Angel around, her workload has doubled. But, she doesn't say anything about that to him. She doesn't want to worry him. She just wants him to focus on getting better. He can do it, she knows he can. Angel has always been so stubborn, he can do anything he puts his mind to. So she knows he can do this, he's just gotta keep on trying. And she'll be there to help him through it.</p><p>She sees he's headed up there and she is so excited to show him the <em>stars</em>, and he's thinking about <em>jumping off</em>.</p><p>They get up to the roof of Angel's rundown apartment complex. He sits right on the edge, long legs dangling out over the city smog, like bleak celebratory streamers lost in the wind. Molly sits down next to him, barely a foot away from the edge, ruining her fluffy skirt that poofs out around her like a dusty cloud. Angel frowns, concerned. She shouldn't get that close, she might fall and get hurt. That would be bad. She should be more careful.</p><p>And here she's still chattering on about how beautiful the stars are and pointing out ones with names memorized in fascination.</p><p>There's too much smog to see any of them properly.</p><p>He looks down at the road. It seems so far away. The people there scurry around like tiny ants, eager to get out of the cold and into their warm homes. The apartment building is several stories tall, enough that a fall from this height could be fatal.</p><p>Angel shivers. He hadn't brought a jacket, he didn't think he be out there long enough to need it.</p><p>He thinks, it would be easy, it would be quick, painless probably. It would only take a moment to lean just a little bit too far forward off the ledge and then everything would finally <em>stop</em>-</p><p>Molly grabs his hand to point at the sky.<br/>"Look! That ones Andromeda, named after this Greek myth, it's a tragedy about a princess who was sacrificed to a giant monster to save their kingdom."</p><p>"That's nice, Molls." He says offhandedly. Eyes locked down at the road.</p><p>"No, it's not, that's kind of the opposite of nice, since she <em>died</em>." her eyebrows furrow as she frowns, "Are you even listening to me?"</p><p>He leans forward a bit too much, and then it would all be <em>over</em>-</p><p>Molly pulls back at him, hands clenched tight onto his.</p><p>It's such an unimportant detail that has nothing to do with anything, but he remembers seeing her perfectly painted bright nails digging into his hand, caverns deep enough to scrape at skin, flecks of blood stain on her nails, ruining the paint, and his own chipped flaking dark nail paint falling off down to the street, like burnt out cigarette ashes.</p><p>He keeps on <em>ruining</em> her.</p><p>He'd forgotten she was still holding his hand. She'd almost gone down with him. Molly had almost died because of him. He'd nearly <em>killed</em> her.</p><p>"Hey, idiot! You could have fallen off! What the hell were you thinking!" She shouts at him, voice scared and shaking.</p><p>Tears pricked at her eyes, desperately searching for an answer. But it wasn't an answer she would want.</p><p>He's still dazed from the conflicting rush of adrenaline from almost <em>dying</em>, and the chilling horror of <em>Molly</em> almost dying.</p><p>(If Molly ever died, he knew he'd be done for. There's no point of doing anything if she's gone. No point in <em>living</em>. No point in him anymore. <em>He's nothing without her</em>.)</p><p>She yanked him back, away from the edge. Hands locked tight enough to need a key to get out.</p><p>"What was that?" He faintly hears her shakily ask the question, but he's too shocked to respond.</p><p>They're sitting, leaning by the rickty stairwell door, far enough away from the edge of the roof, and she's still staring at him. Waiting for an answer.</p><p>He doesn't have one.</p><p>At least, not one she would like.</p><p>Angel looks at the stars Molly's got memorized. He doesn't want to see her inevitable tears. Not now.</p><p>"It was just... an accident." He lied.</p><p>"Ya gotta be more careful, Angie. You could've <em>died</em>."</p><p>He doesnt say <em>'You could have died too, all because of me!'</em></p><p>What he does say is so much worse.</p><p>"You ever wonder if you could just... dissapear. Never exist again. Just, poof. And then nothing." Sounds <em>heavenly</em>.</p><p>"Sounds <em>tragic</em>." Molly sighs out, sad and soft. Those tears are shining unshed in her bright clear eyes, as she looks at him. He pretends to be too out of it to notice. All he's good for is making her cry.</p><p>"No <em>afterlifes</em> or any of that shit, just here one moment and then gone the next. No more dealing with life and all. Just. <em>Everything</em>. And then. <em>Nothing</em>."</p><p>"I've never really thought about it like that. It sounds sad."</p><p>"Yeah. Guess it would be." He bites out.</p><p>He thinks it doesn't sound all that sad to him, laying back on the grimy roof, looking up at the stars with eyes dull and glazed over. This time not from drugs or booze or anything other than himself.<br/>Molly lays back too, ruining her bright blouse, and takes both of his shaking hands and holds them tight.</p><p>-</p><p>The next time he looks in the medicine cabinet, it's been emptied out. He knows its probably for the best. But he can't help but think it was his own fault for blabbing to Molly. He won't be making that mistake again. He doesn't want to worry her anymore.</p><p>-</p><p>He'd been cold turkey for a less than a week before Molly caught him again. This time it was easier to sneak cheap liquor to drown out the thoughts of inevitable self-sabotage. He knew he was bound to mess it up, so why not get a head start.</p><p>Molly was just lucky he found the old booze stashed deep in his closet, before the gun he was really after.</p><p>She had got that same sad look in her eyes, it didn't belong there. He hated that he was the one that kept on putting it there. He hated himself even more for that. He'd tried to quit, for Molly he'd try anything. But knowing him it wouldn't stick. Nothing good ever did last with Angel. He'd find some way to ruin it or die trying.</p><p>-</p><p>He was drowning out the desire to end it all, if he hadn't got his hands on any alcohol or drugs, anything to make it <em>stop</em>, he would've gone back up to the roof and just leaned a bit too far over the edge and let gravity do all the work.</p><p>At least this time he wouldn't be dragging Molly down with him. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to have to keep dealing with a screw up like him anymore.</p><p>-</p><p>"God Angie, your going to get yourself killed if you keep this up!" Molly says after almost stepping on a needle one too many times. She was at her wits end.</p><p>"Would that really be such a bad thing." He was laying on his bed, buzzed out of his mind. Almost at peace for once in his entire life.</p><p>"Of course it would, I don't know how I could ever live without you." She utters out, breathless at the thought. </p><p>"Oh." He'd never really thought that she would miss him. It had never crossed his mind that she would've still cared about him.</p><p>"Do you really think things would be any better if you were gone?" Molly asks.</p><p>His silence speaks volumes.</p><p>"Oh, Angie." Those damned tears were back.</p><p>"You know I'd miss you if you were gone, right? I wouldn't know what to do with myself." She insists.</p><p>"You'd be fine." He turns away from her. He can't bare to see her face. Not now. Not with those tears he'd caused again.</p><p>"No, I wouldn't be!" She angrily snaps, coming back into his fuzzy field of vision, "And you don't get to decide that for me!"</p><p>"I'm not."</p><p>"Yes, ya are!"</p><p>"No, I'm not!"</p><p>"You are!"</p><p>"You'd be better off without me constantly screwing everything up. You deserve a twin who isn't as messed up like me."</p><p>"I don't want anyone else, I want you!"</p><p>"Molls..." He doesn't feel like arguing with her anymore. He doesn't feel like doing much of anything anymore. He's just so tired of everything.</p><p>"Whether you like it or not, we're stuck in this together. You ain't getting out of this the easy way." Molly says, with a puckered frown and a steely determined glint in her mismatched eyes.</p><p>He looks at her, really looks at her and past the bright eyes and cheerful smiles, past those tears he doesn't want to see, past the constant optimism, and he sees Molly, the badly covered bags under her eyes, the stinginess in her hair, the exhaustion that weighed down her shoulders. She looks tired. He doesn't know how he hadn't seen it before. Just how done she is with everything. With him.</p><p>"We were born together and we'll die together," Molly says, "remember, that's just what happens when you're twins."</p><p><br/>She said is so <em>earnestly</em> he almost believed it.</p><p>"Just try to stay alive, for me. Please."</p><p>"Ok, yeah. I'll try for you." Angel sighs out. There's no point in resisting her. Not when hes just causing her more and more pain by being like this. Like him.</p><p>"Thank you, Angie. That's all I can ask ya for."</p><p>She thought for a moment.</p><p>"Wait, no- one more thing. So I know you won't chicken out." She had that mischievous look on. That always spelled out trouble for him.</p><p>"I'm not gonna chicken out on ya, Molls." He rolled his mismatched eyes.</p><p>"You gotta <em>pinky promise</em> me." She held her little pinky out, poking him on the nose.</p><p>"Really Molls, ain't that a bit childish-"<br/>She poked him in the eye.</p><p>"Alright! Fine, ya big baby." He took her pinky with his own.</p><p>"I pinky promise I'll keep trying to stay alive, for you."</p><p>She held his hand and smiled, tears shed from her eyes.</p><p>For her, he tried to smile. He tried. It was vacant and empty, but it was a start.</p><p>
  <em>For Molly, he'd try.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If I've missed any tags, let me know so I can update them! Anyways, thanks so much for reading, and as always constructive criticism is very much appreciated! Last chapters going up next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Accidents Happen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Molly made him promise to stay alive, not sober.  And promises could only hold so much weight before they break.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>FYI some more specific tags, for this chapter in particular are grief, accidents, car accidents, implied/ refrenced suicide, but also somehow this still has a hopeful ending so!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since that pinky promise, every time he saw a quick way to <em>off</em> himself, an easy to nab gun some mook left lying about, whenever he was at some tall building by a window that would be quick to lean out, a busy intersection that would be easy to walk into, and thought, it would be so quick, it would only take a moment, it would be so easy and thought about how terrible it is to be alive, and how painless it would be, he squeezed his pinky and thought of Molly and her smile and how much she'd bawl and cry if he was gone. </p><p>So. </p><p>He kept on trying, for Molly. </p><p>But.</p><p>She'd made him promise to stay alive, not stay <em>sober</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>Angel got wasted and 'tripped' out of a third story window. The look of sheer terror on Molly's face at the hospital sobered him up faster anything before.</p><p>He lied that it was just an accident. </p><p>She lied saying that she believed him.</p><p>Molly still cried and yelled at him for making her worry like that. He deserved it. She still doesn't blame him for it. He almost wishes she would. </p><p>She held on tight onto his pinky the entire time.</p><p>-</p><p>Angel makes a promise to himself. To stop making Molly cry. She shouldn't have to keep on crying because of him.</p><p>She deserves better than that. </p><p>Than him. </p><p>So, if he's good for anything, it'll be to make her tears go away. He doesn't want to be the cause of them anymore. </p><p>He can't do it anymore. He can't make her cry because of him. Not anymore. He won't make it happen ever again. </p><p>But that's a promise he can't keep, no matter how hard he tries. </p><p>-</p><p>He tries not to die. It's alot harder than it sounds. </p><p>But for Molly, he <em>tries</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>Molly's wedding day is the one of the only times he isn't actively thinking about new and creative ways to destroy himself.</p><p>Because Molly's doing that plenty enough for him. So, for once in his life, he has to be the responsible one. It's alot harder than it seems. </p><p>Especially considering his lack of experience in the matter. </p><p>She's determinedly chosen to marry outside any of the notorious the crime families. Something Pops isn't too happy about, but when has the old geezer ever been happy about them. But that wont change her mind. No one can change Molly's mind once it's made up though. She's just too determined. </p><p>And she's too optimistic that it'll all work out. But Angel isn't gonna be the one to rain on her parade, not yet. Not when she's ducking out on him, freaking out about getting married to the love of her life.</p><p>Angel is just glad she's finally going going to be happy. With how messy, deadly and <em>shitty</em>, their lives have been thus far, she deserves to have a nice quiet life with her admittedly besmitten soon-to-be-husband. She deserves to have a good crime free life. Not that that'll ever truly happen, with how important she is to Pops various operations. But Angel will, for once in his life, take responsibility for something.</p><p>He's asked to take on Molly's jobs from now on, so that she can finally get out of this messy violent life that she didn't choose. He's finally going to try and do something right. </p><p>She's still going to be doing desk work for Pops, but at least it's better than getting shot at. He's just glad shes finally getting out of the overly dangerous line of work now. </p><p>But before he can get to that, he has to get Molly through her big day. Which would be alot easier if he could keep track of her.</p><p>Molly's getting cold feet, and keeps worrying about the wedding, keeps trying to find ways to get outta it. Keeps running off to overthink everything. </p><p>It's getting kind of ridiculous. </p><p>"But what if he don't like me no more?" She asks, wringing her newly polished hands together, hiding behind the churches giant spooky organ.</p><p>"Molls, he's the one marrying ya, of course he likes you." He takes her hands and pulls her back to the wedding rehearsal that she keeps trying to get out of.</p><p>"But what if he decides he doesn't wanna to marry me after he sees the way I like my eggs?" She asks, getting her hair done up at the salon, unaware of the odd looks the hairdresser is giving them.</p><p>"I know salsa with scrambled eggs is a bit weird, but if that's a dealbreaker for him, then he don't deserve ya." Angel dutifully answers, blankly reading and old sales ad about new fancy cars, taking the info in one ear and out the other.</p><p>"But what if years down the line, he sees some new pretty little filly, and then leaves me because I'm such an old and wrinkly bag?" She nervously asks, getting fitted for her wedding gown. It had been their moms. Pops said, glaring at Angel, that it would have been would have been her wedding gift to Molly, had she been around to see it. </p><p>"Doll, you'll be beautiful, even when we're 80 years old. And he'd be a fool for not seein that." He easily says, absently looking through racks of tuxes. <br/>
"And we'll make him pay if he ever breaks your heart." A sharp, gold toothed grin at Molls and shes rolling her mismatched eyes, for once forgetting her worries.</p><p>"But what if-" she starts, on the highest balcony of the ornate old church. The wind whipping her white lace veil back and forth, like a clocks pendulum, counting down the seconds till her inevitable doom.<br/>
"Molls," he holds her arms to stop her anxious pacing. It's really starting to make him dizzy, and he's only had a few shots today, Molly made him promise he'd at least <em>try</em> to be somewhat sober for this. He couldn't completely comply, but he could stop her inane ramblings.<br/>
"Look, if he didn't wanna spend his whole life with you, he wouldn't be here. And if he ever hurts ya, he's done for. But he knows that. He's a good one, ok?" He says gently.</p><p>"Are ya sure Angie?" She asks, holding tight onto his hands, linking their pinkies together.</p><p>"Course I'm sure. Look Molls, he loves ya, he'd be such a fool not to." He says, earnest and true.</p><p>She gives him a soft look, a watery smile and eyes scrunched up trying not to cry. At least this time, the tears are from an abundance of happiness, not sadness. </p><p>-</p><p>The wedding would've been nothing to write home about, except for the fact that it was Mollys. So it was the most important event to ever happen in Angel's eyes. </p><p>And he couldn't even be <em>sober</em> through it to remember it all.</p><p>-</p><p>After the wedding vows and all, the reception comes, and Molly doesn't need him to hold her hand and try to encourage her and give failing pep talks, shes got her pretty new husband for that now. She don't need him. Not anymore. Not like he needs her. And that's ok. </p><p>It's <em>fine</em>.</p><p><em>He's fine</em>.</p><p>She's busy dancing with her new husband and smiling and laughing. She's doing just fine (<em>without him ruining her like he always ends up doing.</em>) </p><p>That's good. She deserves to be happy. She deserves to have a good long life, with a nice family. She deserves to be with people who aren't this family, this twisted amalgamation of a happy loving crime family. She's always deserved the entire world, even more than that. The stars, the whole universe. He could never give her that. (<em>Only those damned tears.</em>)</p><p>He's only worrying about seeing their Pops again, he can't avoid the old man forever, ducking out at him in the wedding ceremony is one thing. But especially if he's going to be taking on Molly's jobs, he'll have to deal with seeing more of him around.</p><p>He sees Pops making his way towards him, and then his only worry is if the free bar is really free considering he's the one paying for half of this. Well, if he'd already paid for it, it technically is his so. He gets to work on what he'd rightfully paid for. </p><p>-</p><p>He gets so sloshed, he doesn't even remember mouthing off, and trying for once to get the first hit on Pops before he got to him. </p><p>Of course, he fails. </p><p>And of course, he gets loudly berated in front of everyone. And when Molly tries to stand up for him, she gets herself in the line of fire for Pops ire. For him. </p><p>Because he went and couldn't keep his mouth shut, and he nearly ruined her whole damn wedding.</p><p>He's such a screw up.</p><p>She deserves better than that.</p><p>She deserves better than <em>him</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>He leaves the reception early and drunk, before he can <em>ruin</em> her anymore. </p><p>-</p><p>Sometimes, he can almost fool himself into believing that things are going to be okay. That maybe for once, his shitty luck is turning around. That maybe, things will be different this time. That maybe everything is going to be okay. </p><p>That maybe, this time <em>he'll</em> be okay. </p><p>Then reality will come crashing back and remind him that it'll never get any better. That this is all he'll ever be. That this, a screw up, a broken promise, an accident. And addict, clinging like rats to a sinking ship, to his addictions. To his vices to deal with everything. That he hated living so much, he'd do anything to make it all stop.</p><p>That he'll never be any better, so what's the point in even trying.</p><p>But. </p><p>Then he remembers Molly, and how much she's always believed in him. How sad and pouty she gets when she's wrong. And he wouldn't want her to be wrong about this. He <em>wanted</em> to be better, he just didn't think he <em>could</em> be any better.</p><p>He always hated when he made her cry. He hated making her feel like that. He hated that that was all he was any good for.</p><p>He always hated that he could never make her happy. That he could never do anything right. That he only ever screwed everything up eventually.</p><p>That there want any point in bothering to try. </p><p>Except there still was. For Molly, he'd still try. He couldn't do it for himself, but as long as Molly was there, there was something worth trying for.</p><p>For her. He'd keep on <em>trying</em> for Molly.</p><p>-</p><p>The only upside to decidedly not being sober, was the lack of responsiblity <em>(causality)</em> for his own actions. He couldn't be blamed if he messed up high and drunk, you'd blame the drugs (and <em>him</em>). But it still wouldn't be his entirely his fault. It was something of a loophole.</p><p>An <em>accident</em>. </p><p>At least if he was out of it, he couldn't willingly jump off the Hudson bridge or something. It would just be that he was too high and tripped. Just another accident. No other reason there. </p><p>If he died wasted, at least it would be classified as accidental rather than intentional (<em>Molly would know the difference</em>). Even though the act of being consistently unsober is an act of self sabotage. But what does he know.</p><p>Nothing that's what. </p><p>But he thinks, maybe an overdose can't be proven as intentional, even though it very much could be (<em>Molly would know</em>). They wouldn't know (<em>Molly would</em>). They'd just rule it as another accident (<em>Molly wouldn't, she'd worry</em>). That's all he is, just an accident waiting to happen. </p><p>Angel sighs.</p><p>He can't. He doesn't want to make her cry anymore. He promised himself not to be the cause of her tears anymore. If there's one promise he won't break, it'll have to be this one. (<em>This is the only one he will be able to keep.</em>)</p><p>He squeezes his pinky and walked away from the bridge. He can't. Molly would know better.</p><p>-</p><p>He'd promised Molly he'd try to stay alive, for her. So no more <em>accidents</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>It was an accident that killed her.</p><p>It was supposed to be her final job for Pops, just a quick in and out, just a check in with one of their contacts on a rival gang. </p><p>Well, it was supposed to be <em>their</em> final job together. But Angel never showed up, and by the time he'd sobered up enough to recall there being a job that day and rushed over, she was already too far gone. </p><p>It was a buggie crash on the Hudson bridge that killed her on the way to the job. The sight of Molly, all bloody and strung up, like an innocent fly caught up in a guilty spiders web, tangled up in the bridge wires and supports, like a marinette twisted and hung by it's own strings, haunted him until he could find <em>something</em>, anything, to drown it out.</p><p>And even then, it still didn't go away. So he tried harder. For Molly.</p><p>-</p><p>By the time Molly's funeral came around, Angel was too busy trying to drown out the fact she was gone to attend (<em>It should have been him</em>.) </p><p>He wasn't invited, anyways. It didn't matter. Without her, <em>nothing mattered</em>. (<em>And it was all his fault</em>.)</p><p>-</p><p>In one of his rare moments of lucidity, caused by a lack of money to get any drugs or drinks, he visits Pops.</p><p>He gets an accusatory glare his way, a few ugly slurs sneered at him, and the door slammed shut in his face before he can get any word out. </p><p>-</p><p>Angel doesn't go back there again.</p><p>He finds other, less reputable, ways to get the money instead. </p><p>At least sex is something he is <em>really</em> good at and can do well enough <em>unsober</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>Sitting alone atop the apartment complexes roof, joint hanging loose in his pale shakey hand, he feels so <em>lonely</em> without her. Everything feels so empty without her bright eyes and endless optimism. Everything feels so pointless without her here.</p><p>Whenever he thinks about dying, which is quite often these days, he holds tight onto his pinky. And he thinks about Molly instead. And how much she'd hate for him to go back on his promise. She'd always thought he can be better. He didn't think he could do better anymore.</p><p>(<em>It was all his fault. It should have been him</em>.)</p><p>He doesn't think he can do anything anymore.</p><p>-</p><p>Angel squeezes his pinky and thinks of Molly and her smile and-<br/>
Molly can't smile anymore. Angel doesn't think he can either anymore. He doesn't think he can do much of anything anymore.</p><p>Having to look in the mirror and see someone who looks like an uncannily familiar face, someone who looks so much like <em>her</em>. </p><p>They have the same messy splattering of freckles, the same shade of pale stringy hair, the same sharp cold smirk. The same empty dull mismatched eyes. </p><p>Well, they had the same face. They don't anymore. They don't have anything in common anymore. </p><p>He kept on <em>ruining</em> her.</p><p>(<em>It was all his fault.</em>)</p><p>He doesn't think he can do <em>this</em> anymore. </p><p>(<em>It should have been him.</em>)</p><p>-</p><p>Angel desperately searches the empty medicine cabinet for <em>something</em>. Anything to get the thought of her out of his head. </p><p>He doesn't find any medicine, only some more hastily stashed drugs.</p><p>Well, that'll work to get her off his mind.</p><p>-</p><p>He doesn't think he <em>wants</em> to do this anymore.</p><p>-</p><p>It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to die before him. Not that he was planning on it, he just figured it was inevitable before he died soon. He'd almost been counting on it. </p><p>(<em>It should have been him instead</em>)</p><p>He was the one who always screwed up, the one who always broke their promises, the one who always was nothing more than an accident.</p><p>(<em>She didn't deserve it, not like him</em>)</p><p>But. </p><p>He'd made a promise to her. </p><p>(<em>He squeezes his pinky.</em>)</p><p>He'd promised. To stay alive for her. And. Now. She was. Gone. </p><p>(<em>And it was all his fault</em>)</p><p>Not Molly. Not her. She didn't deserve to be like that </p><p>(<em>Not like him, it should have been him</em>)</p><p>So empty and lifeless </p><p>(<em>he can't do anything anymore</em>)</p><p>So cold and bloody</p><p>(<em>he doesn't want to do anything anymore</em>)</p><p>So ghostly and pale</p><p>(<em>he can't do this anymore</em>)</p><p>So much like him</p><p>(<em>he doesn't want to do this anymore!</em>)</p><p>and and and and and and and now she was-</p><p>-</p><p>Gone.</p><p>-</p><p>It was an overdose that killed Angel.</p><p>This one <em>wasn't</em> an accident.</p><p>-</p><p>He didn't get a funeral.</p><p>-</p><p>When Angel dies, he goes to hell. Where he belongs. But. Hell feels so empty without Molly. (<em>He feels empty without her here.</em>) She doesn't belong down here though. She belongs up in heaven. With all those good folk. He just wishes he could be with her. But, there was no way he'd get to heaven, he was just too messed up. He was stuck for an eternity in hell, a hell without <em>her</em>. There was no point in trying anything. Not anymore. </p><p>-</p><p>Good thing theres an abundance of drugs and booze down here. <em>Eternity</em> is such a long time to exist without Molly. </p><p>He goes on a non-stop bender that lasts 70 some years. </p><p>-</p><p>The only time he bothers to stops is for the hotel girls, for Charlie. Because just looking at her, brimming with an optimism hell has never seen, looking at him with the unfounded hope that he can be better, that he's someone worth trying for, is a stark harsh reminder that Molly <em>isn't</em> here. </p><p>God, does he miss her though. It's been about 70 years or so since he'd last seen her.</p><p>So.</p><p>For the second time in his life, he tries to go sober for Molly. For the slim chance to maybe see <em>her</em> again.</p><p>Of course, he screws that up though.</p><p>He screws everything up eventually.</p><p>But. He still <em>tries</em>. For Molly.</p><p>-</p><p>When Molly dies, she goes to heaven. She always was an angel. Not like he was, with the name, but like an actual one. She had been the only one out of their screwed up family who made it to heaven. </p><p>At least that's what he's been assuming, sense he's stuck in hell with the rest of them and can't exactly check. But, he doesn't know that for sure. It's been so long, since he'd died. Since she'd died. Then she'd have be in heaven. But, he just didn't know. Well he's got a pretty good feeling though, seeing as she never showed up in hell, and he'd certainly looked for her.</p><p><br/>
Good. She'd always deserved better than being stuck down here like him. With him. </p><p>- </p><p>But he <em>misses</em> her.</p><p>-</p><p>The only real difference from hell and the mortal world, is that in hell you can't really die, because you're already dead.</p><p>-</p><p>He squeezes his pinky.</p><p>-</p><p>The other difference is that <em>Molly</em> isn't here.</p><p>-</p><p><em>He squeezes his pinky</em>.</p><p>-</p><p>So.</p><p>-</p><p>Angel stays at the hotel. </p><p>And he tries to do better. </p><p>For Molly. </p><p>And for <em>himself</em>.</p><p>-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This entire fic is the Simpson's meme, the do it for her one and all the pictures are molly. Also idk of all the stuff, timelines and 'lore' is correct I wrote this in like an hour and took a bit to edit and I have not caught up with hazbin for a long while, this came to me at 5 in the morning and I went off of what I remember is the correct infos, like most stuff with molly and family stuff is pure speculation. I havnt seen the addict music video thing because i just know that would suck me even more into this and I dont want that rn lol, but I do have vague Ideas for a sequel that's surrounding Angel at the hotel, so theres that. </p><p>Thanks so much for reading! It truly genuinely means so much to me that people read the stuff I post because posting is Terrifying so you guys who read and leave kudos and comments mean the entire world to me!!! Hope you enjoyed this angsty mess I wrote at 5 in the morning in a blind rush for no discernable reason! Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I cant even tell you where this came from, I am not even invested in this fandom, so idk why I wrote the longest most angsty thing ever, hope it's good though,<br/>If any of the info is not correct, like timelines or names or anything, well oops that's unfortunate, I'm not editing it, I've already got the rest of the chapters written out, too late to be changing them now, honestly not sticking around with this or making other fics for it, this was an impulse thing that came to me at 5 in the morning and I wrote it in an hour then took a week to edit it all, I split it up cuz it was starting to get too long, so its 3 chapters, I dont even know if theres 6 whole promises in this i cant count. I'm not gonna try to. Hope you enjoyed the first part of this angsty nonsense! If the tags dont work or something goes wrong I'll edit it soon too!<br/>Updates next week! Constructive criticism and feedback greatly appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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